


False Flag

by Nectere



Series: The Emerald Glass [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Good Albus Dumbledore, Good Slytherins, Hogwarts Second Year, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Well-Meaning Albus Dumbledore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-01-08 05:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21230657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nectere/pseuds/Nectere
Summary: Second year is rapidly approaching, and with it comes new challenges for a Harry fresh from a summer spent with Professors Sinistra and Snape. These challenges include Gilderoy Lockhart, the Heir of Slytherin, strange homicidal whispers in the walls, and more. What secrets can our quartet discover about who Salazar really was, and can they do it before the school closes, when one of their Housemates could be trying to kill them?





	1. In The Sun

Harry woke to the smell of tea and Agathos hissing in his ear. He blinked at the ceiling and smiled. He had his _ own room _ . Not a room full of his cousin’s broken things, or a cupboard with spiders, but a real, actual room that was just for _ him. _

Okay, well...there was a second bed in the room, for when Draco stayed over, but that was less him sharing his room, and more an extra bed for when his best friend could stay over. He smiled a bit to himself as he yawned and shook the sleep from his head, looking around the room (_ his room!) _ The walls were oak, which matched the bed Aurora had let him pick out. He had _ posters _, and a Slytherin banner, he had his own wireless, and bookshelves. 

“Harry!” Aurora called through the door. “Come on, get up, we’re going to miss the sale!”

Harry, reminded, quickly dressed and ran a comb through his unruly hair, before hurrying into the kitchen. “‘M up, Rory!” He claimed, grabbing a muffin. “We can go!”

Aurora, who was his Astronomy teacher during the school term, shook her head, and handed him a thermos of tea. “Come on then. You always want to get to a car boot sale as they’re unloading. All the good treasures are taken quick.”

“Is Sev’rus coming with us?” Harry asked, yawning, asking about the Potions professor, who spent half his time at the house. Sometimes he did things with Harry and Aurora and Harry could pretend he had a family. He had always dreamed his parents would appear and scoop him up from the Dursleys. He knew now that they wouldn’t, but Aurora and Severus had, and he loved them for that.

“He’s sleeping.” Aurora dismissed. “We’ll switch after we get back and the caffeine wears off.” She finished her cup of tea. “Let’s go!”

And so, they headed off. Harry hadn’t particularly liked the idea of a car boot sale at first, having had secondhand items all his life, but the fact that Aurora and Severus had allowed him to use his vaults to get actual clothes that fit him, for both the wizarding and muggle worlds, and Aurora had even taken him to get a better prescription for his glasses made it different. She had made it obvious that it wasn’t about money, but the treasure hunt. He didn’t mind treasure hunts. Also the haggling. Aurora loved haggling. Petunia Dursley would have never been caught dead haggling for ten pounds, but Aurora took glee in it. 

So, Harry wandered along Apps Court Farm Car Boot, behind Aurora, looking out at all the bric-a-brac and fun things, hoping to see something exciting, but just glad to be there. By the time the casual buyers had shown up to the sale, he had finished his flask of tea, his feet hurt a bit in his trainers, and Aurora had plopped several old books in his arms, but just as they were about to leave, he spotted something. “Hey Aurora, look at this.”

_ This _ was a wooden box, it had a snake and a gryffin carved into it, and the instant he touched it, it _ felt _ like magic. 

Aurora inspected it, flipped it open, and did as much as she could to check it without alerting the muggles before handing it back to him. “If you like it, Harry, you should get it. You noticed it for a reason.”

Harry turned it over twice, before deciding it would probably be good for keeping his quills and inks in for school, and handed over the tenner the man wanted.

* * *

By the time they arrived back home, Severus had breakfast on the table, and Harry was grateful for another cup of tea. “I got a new box for my quills.” Harry shared with the Potions’ Master as he sat down. “It was fun.”

“It is enlightening to know that car boot sales remain scintillating entertainment.” Severus remarked, dryly. “I am unsure how a trip to the apothecary will ever compare.”

“We’re going to the apothecary?” Harry asked, lighting up. Going muggle places was fun, but the wonder and newness of the wizarding world had not yet worn off.

“_ We _ are not.” Severus corrected. “ _ I _ have to put orders in for all of the ingredients for all of my classes that Madam Sprout has not grown. It cannot be known that we have taken you from Petunia. The Ministry would place you straight back with them.” Or, in Severus’s opinion, more likely Dumbledore.

“Oh. Okay.” Harry agreed, trying not to sound disappointed and failing.

Aurora paused. “We _ could _ create a disguising spell,” She said, thoughtfully. “But you’d have to be very careful no one used a general _ Revelio _ around you, or it would disappear.” She tapped her lip. “If Severus would be all right with you going.”

Severus and Aurora traded looks and communicated silently somehow, while Harry looked pleadingly between them. Finally, Severus gave a long-suffering sigh. “Very well, go change into some robes.”

“Thank you!” Harry enthused. “I’ll be on my _ best _ behaviour.”

“You had better, or it will be muggle from now on.” Severus warned darkly.

Harry didn’t respond, practically diving into his room. 

“I am going to regret this.” Severus said in a low voice. 

It’ll be fine, Severus.” Aurora reassured him. “Don’t worry.” Her reassuring smile turned into a flat out grin when Harry _ swooped _ back into the room in what appeared to be a miniature clone of Severus’s black robes, including jet buttons. She bit her lip to keep from laughing, partially due to the flabbergasted expression on Severus’s face. Aside from ensuring that he knew what styles were appropriate the adults had left Harry alone to pick out robes from the owl-order catalogue. 

“Okay!” Harry announced. 

Aurora smiled, well aware of what he was doing. Harry, who had been neglected for his entire childhood, was playing happy families. So was she, to a degree. “You look like quite the little potions master.” Aurora congratulated him. “Now, come over here and let me disguise you.”

A few quick wand flicks and some swishing and turns, and Aurora had changed the tone of Harry’s skin, she darkened his trademark Lily-green eyes to Severus’s dark grey black, and made his cheekbones slightly more pronounced. She leaned back to check her work. “No magic will cover the scar, I’m afraid. Your hair will have to do, but people won’t be looking.”

Harry grinned. “I’ll go fix it now.” He was gone in a flash.

“He’s mocking me.” Severus growled angrily.

“He adores you.” Aurora disagreed. “You’re the first positive male influence he’s ever had. The first thing he did after defeating Quirrell was look at you and tell you he controlled his mind. He wants your approval, and he’s emulating you like Draco does Lucius.”

Severus, if it were possible, looked even more shocked, but the discussion was curtailed as Harry reappeared, his hair slicked with Sleekeazy’s and covering his scar. “How’s this?”

“Passable.” Severus remarked. “Do not speak to the shopkeeper directly unless I give you leave. You _ are _to be on your best behaviour, am I understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Harry agreed, grinning.

* * *

The apothecary Severus took him to wasn’t Slug and Jiggers in Diagon Alley, but a larger one in Manchester, Bobbin’s Bewitching Brews. He was, apparently, a common customer, as the well-dressed wizard behind the till greeted him by name. 

“Severus, good to see you.” The man said. “And who is this?”

Severus was unsurprised by the question. He had never brought anyone with him to the apothecary before. “You as well, Aldous.” He said with a nod. “This is Hadrian, a distant relation of mine on the Prince side.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, Hadrian.” Aldous replied, before turning back to Severus. “Any changes to your usual Hogwarts order, Severus?”

“Add an extra pound of bat spleen, and pufferfish eyes, and three measures of dragonfly thoraxes.” Severus requested. “There are some coming into second year who are lax with their preparation.”

“Of course.” Aldous agreed. “Shall I have it delivered to the school on the usual day?”

“Yes, thank you.” Severus said, nodding. “And send the bill to the Headmaster, as usual.”

“We are, as always, grateful for your business, Master Snape.” Aldous said, with a slight bow of his head. 

Severus glanced at Harry for a moment, considering, and then sighed. “Come, Hadrian, let me show you how to determine ingredient quality, and why we do not frequent Slug and Jiggers.” Harry beamed at him, and followed after easily.

While Severus had always been passionate about the Dark Arts, Potions was his first love. There was a part of him that enjoyed teaching, it was just a _ very small _ part. He had never wanted to teach in the first place, having loftier goals of grand discoveries. The war, Dumbledore, and Voldemort changed that. Instead of research and changing the face of magic, he had been forced back into the castle that had been both his saviour from Tobias Snape and his hell of the Marauders’ making. He was only twenty when he started teaching, and the older years still remembered him. He had never been Professor Flitwick, but he had _ tried _ to be fair once upon a time, until one too many comments about “Professor Snivellus,” and then when one Slytherin seventh year decided someone who ‘couldn’t even wash his hair,’ couldn’t possibly teach him had caused an explosion in NEWT Potions that had amputated his arm and put two other students in St. Mungo’s for over a month. With a dozen more treated in the hospital wing. The Board of Governors had blamed him, Dumbledore had lambasted him, telling him that he had to find a way to get the students to listen to him and not blame them, while the Dark Lord had tortured him to the point where he only made it back to the castle because of Lucius. After that, fair went out the window. If he had to intimidate and scare people into obedience to prevent that kind of idiocy, so be it. 

Harry, however, Harry _ wanted _ to be in the apothecary with him, and was actually listening. That was the kind of teaching he preferred. So, he went over each of the herbs in the standard mixture, and all the ones in the second-year potions, showing the boy how to determine quality flying seahorses from poor, dried bladderwrack from withered, and more. There were worse days.

* * *

Harry and Aurora returned home upbeat and smiling from breakfast at Aurora’s parents one summer day, only for the mood to crash when they walked in to find a red-eyed Draco and sterner than normal Severus .Even Harry was far from oblivious about the mood. “What’s going on?”

“Abraxas Malfoy has died.” Severus said coolly, by way of explanation. “The Dragon Pox finally took him. Lucius and Narcissa asked me to take Draco for a few days while they arrange things.”

“Of course!” Aurora said, smiling sadly. “Harry, why don’t you take Draco to your room and get him settled.” She watched Severus carefully as Harry led Draco away, and then headed to the potions cabinet and deftly unlocked it, pulling out a vial of orangish liquid. She promptly held it out to Severus. “Take your potion.”

Severus’s expression wavered slightly. “Why is it I’m the potion master, and yet you’re the one forcing a potion down _ my _ throat?”

“Because I have spent years studying Afro-Carribean magic, and your mastery only glanced at pre and post-colonial developments.” Aurora replied. “Now drink the damn potion.”

Severus sneered, but took the vial and quaffed the potion down. He felt it take effect like bubbles in his esophagus, and closed his eyes with a grimace. “Thank you, Aurora.”

“Don’t mention it.” Aurora said, dismissively. “If I’m ever stuck in a room with Senior or Moody, you’ll probably have to pour some down my throat.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Why would I want to do that when I could sit back and watch you eviscerate them?”

“I’m more a fan of defenestration myself. I think Hogwarts would want in the game.” Aurora replied. “How long do we get to keep Draco?”

“I told Narcissa we’d return him the morning after the MacDougal party this weekend.” Severus answered. “I assume you’ll want to gather the rest of your snakelets for a few days.”

“Obviously.” Aurora grinned. 


	2. Sur le Fil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and Daphne meet up in Paris, much to Hermione's delight and her cousins' chagrin.

There were times when Hermione Granger wondered why she had been made a Slytherin, and there were other times when she had no doubt at all. This time was one of the latter. She had been thrilled to spend most of the summer in France. The history was _ fascinating _ , and after last year, she had to admit she was curious about where the Flamels had once lived. She had also been pleased because she knew for a fact that her best girl friend, Daphne Greengrass, always summered in France with her mother’s family. Hermione missed her friends. It was still a very new thing for her to _ have _ friends. She, as her cousins liked to point out, was plain. Frumpy, bookish, and boring to most people. Even if she hadn’t loved being a witch, she would never give up Hogwarts simply because it had given her a chance to get to know Daphne, Harry, Draco, and even Morag. Unfortunately for Hermione, she had no owl of her own, and her parents had been quite against Hermione searching Paris for a wizarding post office. They wanted her to spend time in the ‘normal’ world. She didn’t have the heart to tell them it didn’t seem so normal anymore, but she tried. She would have tried harder though, if Eliza and Priam Granger hadn’t pushed her to make nice with her cousins. 

Hermione’s cousins made her want to practise her hexes on live targets. Phoebe, Helen, Leda, and Jason were her cousins on her father’s side, and all of them were convinced they were better, because _ their _ fathers had more _ important _ jobs than just being _ dentists _ . They liked to make out that Hermione’s side of the family was less important, less wealthy, less _ everything _ , and it _ grated. _ It wasn’t true. While her family wasn’t as wealthy as the Malfoys, they were an old family, and very well off. Eliza and Priam were dentists because they _ liked _to work.

Which was why Hermione was waiting with bated breath for today. When Daphne’s white owl had arrived at Hermione’s window last night, Hermione had barely resisted shouting in victory. Instead, the two Slytherins traded scraps of hotel stationary and parchment for two hours in the dark of the night, hatching a _ very public _ plan. Hermione would have to suffer her cousins for about an hour, shopping, but she had learned a different kind of patience over the year before, the kind of patience that let you be still and _ wait _ , and she trusted Daphne. She knew her friend would show...and _ show up _ her cousins. So. she had dressed in her best sundress, bothered with her magical lip gloss, and as she was unable to use the charm Daphne had taught her on her hair, she had attempted to beat the mass of curls into submission in a braid. 

Sure enough, after the tenth attempt at a sly, snide comment from Leda that had nothing on Pansy's vitriol, Hermione’s faith was justified, along the Rue di Rivoli. There was a gasp behind the muggle women. “Hermione? Hermione Granger, you naughty thing! Why didn’t you write to me that you were in Paris?”

“Daphne!” Hermione enthused, not having to fake her excitement at all as she pushed through her cousins to trade cheek kisses with her best girl friend. “I did _ mean _ to write, but I was unsure where to post it. How _are_ you?” Remembering every one of her etiquette lessons, she curtsied to Daphne’s mother. “It is a pleasure, Madame de Montmorency-Greengrass, I hope your morning has been a good one?”

“It’s been lovely, Miss Granger.” Harmonia said with a gentle nod. “It is a pleasure to meet you. You’ve had our set abuzz all summer. Top of your year is quite an achievement for a first generation acceptance.”

Hermione flushed with pride. “Thank you, Lady Greengrass. Daphne was a brilliant study partner.”

“_ Maman _, can’t Hermione come shopping with us today?” Daphne pleaded. “Hermione, you’re coming to Morag’s party at her castle, aren’t you? Maman is taking me shopping for a dress.”

“Of course!” Hermione answered, with feeling, meaning it, but also feeling the stares of her cousins. “It was so nice of Morag to invite us. Isn’t it very exclusive?”

“_ Very _.” Daphne confided. “I think Marcus is the only person we know who’s been.”

Hermione laughed at that. “Not even Draco?”

“Draco is from one of the best families in England,” Harmonia replied, easily enough. “But the Scottish clans have their own opinions.” She looked at the two girls. “But Daphne, it would be quite rude for us to intrude on your friend’s holiday.”

“_ Maman! _” Daphne protested, looking every inch the spoiled, pampered noble. “Please?”

Harmonia seemed to consider it for a moment. “Oui_ , _ma petite, if Hermione’s parents agree as well.”

Hermione turned to her parents, looking just as pleading, albeit silently. 

“Well, we wouldn’t want her to impose…” Eliza Granger said slowly. 

“It’s no imposition!” Harmonia answered easily. “I have had a shop shut down for the day to find Daphne a dress. It would be no issue for me to bring Hermione along, Dr. Granger, especially as close as the girls are.”

Eliza seemed to waver and glanced over at her husband, who nodded. “All right. Hermione, you listen to Lady Greengrass. You know where our hotel is?”

“Yes, Mum.” Hermione said with a bright nod. “I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour!”

* * *

Daphne smirked to herself. Extraction was complete and the retrieval of her best friend was successful. She waited until they were a good enough distance away, to squeeze Hermione’s hand. “I wish they had been turned around so you could see their _ faces _, Hermione! They looked like Pansy whenever Prim puts her in her place.”

Hermione grinned at the thought. “So where are we really going?”

“Dress shopping,” Harmonia answered with a laugh. “But then we will be giving you a tour of Rue de Sorcière, so that you can see how it quite outclasses Diagon Alley.” 

“Papa is with Ria, so we have all day.” Daphne confided. “He knows better than to go shopping with Maman_ .” _

“Come, _ mes poulettes _, we only have a day.” Harmonia chided, striding past them and waiting for them to catch up as she led them to a side alley that seemed to appear out of nowhere. She tapped a rain-spout once, and the world shifted. 

The robe shop was on the Rue de Sorcière, and Hermione found it markedly less tiresome than shopping with her cousins, because, like Professor Sinistra, Harmonia _ explained _ things. 

Hermione didn’t completely understand why better clothes were completely necessary, and why her brain couldn’t be enough, but she believed it. Hermione, after all, was nothing if not logical, and she had _ seen _ the difference when Daphne had helped her with her hair. Speaking of…

“While we’re here, we’ll get both of your uniforms fitted and tailored.” Harmonia said, paging through a fabric book. “Hermione, Daphne tells me that my curling charm works wonders for you, and that you use it every day. Do you mind if I cast it on you, so that we can see where your collars should be when your hair is curled properly?”

“Okay, Lady Greengrass.” Hermione said politely, actually a little relieved. She had gotten used to how her hair looked when she charmed it, and more than that, it made it a lot easier to take care of, not to mention, Hermione loved routine. 

Harmonia smiled, and a spiral of a wand movement, a few words, and a silver barrette later, Hermione looked every inch a Slytherin in her new school robes, especially as the seamstress tapped her chin, and magical sewing implements darted and tucked and adjusted around her. Hermione was charmed by the entire experience, literally and figuratively. 

The first time anyway. By the time they got to the dress robes for the party, and Harmonia was trying to explain magical colour theory, and why she was _ a bit too young _ to wear an updo to Morag’s party, Hermione was less charmed and ready to explore the Parisian version of Diagon Alley.

* * *

Dresses gotten, Daphne walked arm-in-arm with Hermione down the Rue de Sorcière. The day went all too quickly, between browsing the apothecary, shopping in an antique shop, and book shopping at Le Belle Mot, the three-story bookstore where Hermione looked as if she would never leave, all followed by a late lunch at Lapin’s, 

“Daphne,” Harmonia scolded as the two girls giggled over lunch. “What _ have _ you been learning? Madame Kyteler would be quite cross. You must _ never _ misapply apply a giggle.”

Daphne’s shoulders went back, and she flushed pink in shame. “Yes, Maman.” She corrected herself. 

“How do you misapply a giggle?” Hermione queried, wide-eyed at Lady Greengrass. 

Harmonia smiled. “One laughs with one's friends, Hermione, one applies a giggle with the _ blander _ sex. It distracts them.” 

“De Montmorencys _ always _ go to Charm School before starting our Secondary.” Daphne explained. “Ria is attending St. Artisson’s, like I did. This year she’s focusing on dance, poetry, and intelligence gathering.”

“I see.” Hermione murmured, though, really, she did not see at all, but did not want to ask, for fear of offending her hostess. “Is that what Professor Snape meant about the skills he knew you had?” She remembered when their Head of House had sent Daphne to follow Quirrell.

“Oh yes,” Daphne said easily, as if it were perfectly normal, over her blackberry soda. “Though I wasn’t the best at it.” Her smile wavered slightly. “As you can tell. He saw me.”

“He had eyes on the back of his head.” Hermione said, loyally, and Daphne smiled back at her. 

Harmonia smiled as she sipped her mimosa. It was good to see that everything she thought from Daphne’s letters and the reports of the other parents were true. “Speaking of your Professors,” Harmonia said slyly. “Aurora has written, asking that you spend the last two weeks with her. Draco’s grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, has passed and she thinks it would help to have you near.” 

Hermione gasped, a hand flying to her mouth in surprise, while Daphne merely looked serious. “Poor Draco!” She said, sadly. “I’ll have to talk to Mum and Dad.”

“Leave that to me, _ mes poulettes _. You already had a party to attend, after all.” Harmonia said, eyes glinting. 

Hermione had a feeling Harmonia de Montmorency-Greengrass always got her way.

* * *

When the three witches met with the Grangers again at Le Meurice, the hotel where they had been staying, Harmonia hummed in consideration. “Not bad,” she said after a moment. 

“Dad wanted to stay at the Hotel Le Bristol, but Aunt Julia said there are too many Americans there.” Hermione offered. “Mum likes this one because she enjoys Dali.” 

Harmonia smiled at her. “A little longer with Aurora and Severus, my dear, and you four are going to change our world.” 

Hermione bit her lip nervously. “I don’t know that I could change the world, Lady Greengrass.”

“Oh, little one,” Harmonia chuckled. “A Malfoy, the Boy-Who-Lived, a muggleborn, and my darling Daphne? You won’t even have to try. You just focus on your lessons and learning about us, and it will happen.” 

Hermione thought long and hard over these words as her parents invited Harmonia and Daphne to dinner at one of the restaurants at the hotel. She tried to push it out of her mind while she enjoyed talking with her friend, able to ignore her cousins (mostly) for at least one night. 

“I heard Morag’s mother goes all out for these parties.” Daphne said, excitedly. “Pansy is going to be absolutely _ green _ with envy. There’s no way that Morag invited _ her _, not when she was so condescending about Morag’s house.”

“You should ask Morag to give you a tour, if you have the chance.” Harmonia murmured. “Clan MacDougal has some amazing collections. Murdoch is quite proud of them. I believe Una is actually opening up the second ballroom for the children.”

“Well, it’s been wonderful to see Hermione making such _ influential _ friends.” Julia Bennet-Granger, Hermione's aunt, said with a smile. 

“Oh yes,” Harmonia said with a laugh. “She got into the most prestigious section at school, which is almost unheard of for a first generation acceptance to Croton Hall. There hadn’t been a non-legacy in her section in twenty years.”

Leda and Jason were glaring daggers at her. Hermione, having learned something at Hogwarts, gave them her best Slytherin smile, based almost entirely on the one used by the _ last _ ‘first generation acceptance,’ when she was assigning ‘volunteer work,’ to Slytherins.

“It’s so good to see she has finally made _ friends. _” Phoebe, the eldest said, silkily. “She’s always been the odd one out.”

“The exceptional always are.” Daphne replied, smiling with an edge to it. “Until they find others of the same _ quality _ . I’m _ sure _ you understand. It wouldn’t _ do _ to be popular with _ some people. _”

Daphne was _ definitely _ getting the _best_ Christmas gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song for this chapter is Jenifer's _Sur le Fil._


End file.
